


a step down

by Justausernameonline



Series: The Donut Timeline [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Family, Freewriting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Violence, excerpt, very brief loving the Arnault family hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justausernameonline/pseuds/Justausernameonline
Summary: A minute of Dorothea and her mother's day, cast from a noble's home to fend for themselves.(To be included in a work in progress)
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault & Dorothea's Mother
Series: The Donut Timeline [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963705
Kudos: 4





	a step down

**Author's Note:**

> An excerpt to a oneshot I've wanted to write since the start of the year, and with the current state of world affairs, I've been taking my time carrying the idea, so I wanted to share a tiny piece of what I'm working on! 
> 
> The writing in mind is personally daunting, but I hope to finish it before the end of the year. If anyone is interested in how it goes, nice

In the grey morning light, Dorothea rested her fist on her throat gentle, and her mother guided her knuckles to tuck beneath her chin. “Your life is such a precious thing, Dorit,” murmured she, her roughened, desolate voice sinking deep into the floorboards, settling warm over ruffled bedsheets. “Through joy, through hardship, that holds true.”

“Is that why we left?” she asked. Her free hand dug at her arm, pressed between skin left unbruised. She was tired after many hours of sleep, and there was an unexplainable ache in her chest she could not quell. “Is it why we’re here?”

“Yes… and no. It’s all very fresh, our new troubles.” Her mother rose to her full height sitting, dark hair uncoiling from the motion over her wool shirt; sold were the silk dresses she had worn around the lady of the house and her mother had taken up sewing again, patterns Dorothea had never seen, patterns not yet sold that piled on their little table. “I’ve learned at an early age that, when the life of a loved one is at stake, you do what you can to protect them.”


End file.
